


Image is Everything

by MiliQs (Millqs), MillQs (Millqs)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Royai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24536362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millqs/pseuds/MiliQs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millqs/pseuds/MillQs
Summary: Anything can be misconstrued when everything rests on image. Royai. Post Brotherhood.
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye & Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 21
Kudos: 31





	1. Unaffected

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello! This is my first time posting on AO3 since I mostly used to read and write on FF.net. It’s been a really long time since I wrote any fanfiction, but I figured I’d write this for Royai week since I have the time now (though it's early and not following any prompts). Hopefully my writing has improved since my early teen years, haha. I know this chapter is pretty short, but it feels right to end it here. Please let me know what you think. I’d love to hear from you ^u^  
> Also, if there's any updated/AO3 specific lingo that would be useful to know, please let me know!

Central City was alive with excitement; the sweet summer breeze was enough to rouse even the most sullen of individuals into a good mood. Golden evening light radiated through every crevice of Central Headquarters, enamouring everyone but Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye, whose attention was glued to the paperwork in front of her. She had hoped that working after the squad clocked out would allow her some peace, but the voices of other officers kept finding their way into her ears.

  
She continued working as the voices of her peers faded in and out of earshot. ‘There’s still so much to do,’ she thought, looking at the pile of forms and reports on her desk. She rubbed her strained eyes and arched her back in a much needed stretch. She then took a long sip from her cup, causing her furrowed brows to loosen as the warm tea met her lips, curving them ever so slightly upward. The tension in her shoulders dropped as she enjoyed a moment of silence, with no one in the distance to distract her as they prattled on about something insignificant.

  
However, her tiny bit of peace was cut short by another voice, but this time, she didn’t mind. “Lieutenant Colonel,” he said.  
“General Mustang,” she nodded before going back to her report.

  
Roy noticed how uncharacteristically relaxed her shoulders were and smiled to himself. He hung up his coat and fell onto his seat, sinking into the cushy leather. “I thought you would have gone home by now,” he said.

  
“I still had some paperwork to finish, sir,” she replied without looking up.

  
Roy nodded. “Don’t you want to know where I just came from?” he asked with a smirk.

  
“You were in a meeting with Fuhrer Grumman, sir,” Riza said dryly. “You forget that I organize your schedule.”

  
Roy leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. He had his eyes closed with a devilish smile gracing his face. “Yes, well, the content of our meeting was quite interesting... Care to take a guess as to why?”

  
Riza raised her brow and turned to face her superior officer. “Sir?”

  
His eyes stared into hers, his sly smile melting into a genuine one. “Tonight,” he started, “Grumman signed an order to repeal anti-fraternization laws.” As his words left his mouth, Roy’s eyes searched for any semblance of emotion from her. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes studied every inch of her face. He felt his heartbeat increase and his hands perspire as he waited for her to respond to the news.

  
The Lieutenant Colonel raised her brows in surprise, though the rest of her face was apathetic at best. “That is quite interesting, General,” she said, though her voice was void of any real emotion.

  
Roy’s smile fell in response to her empty reply. “Not a very animated reaction, Lieutenant.”

  
She shrugged nonchalantly. “The change wouldn’t affect me, sir.”

  
The General looked down at his desk, his mouth curled downward. He stood up to collect his coat and made his way to the door, stopping at the threshold. He looked at her face again and turned his downward expression into an unconvincing smile. “I suppose not, Lieutenant Hawkeye,” he said softly as he walked out the door.


	2. It's Nice to Have Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who left such nice comments on my first chapter! I really appreciated the help I got with formatting as well (Thank you, Dailenna). I'm working on managing my pace, so let me know if you think anything's off. Thanks for reading :D

The Amestrian military was abuzz with anticipation; with the repeal of anti-fraternization laws, officers in every department were awaiting the famously close duo to disclose their relationship to personnel. While relations between ranks were still discouraged, ultimately, cases would be assessed individually. And assess they did.

“I’ll bet my life savings that they’ve been together for years!”  
“They're so unprofessional, flaunting their relationship here.”  
“It’s so sad that they had to wait this long to be together."  
“Do you think she put her grandfather up to it so she could lock down the General?”

You’d think they were snipers with how focused they were on her. 

  
Riza’s jaw clenched in annoyance as she continued with her duties. She and her superior had been the subject of many conversations as of late. Ever since Fuhrer Grumman made his announcement, the rumour mill flourished in her honour. Due to her untraditionally close relationship with the General, the ‘true nature’ of their relationship had become a trending topic at Central Headquarters, all thanks to her loving grandfather.

  
She wanted to personally roll her eyes at everyone spreading these ‘previously star crossed’ or ‘clandestine lovers’ narratives. In reality, these theories couldn’t be further from the truth. While she could decipher everything Mustang wanted to say by just the rate of his breath or even the slightest twitch, his private life? All she had to go on for that was lunchroom gossip and his afternoon ramblings. 

  
Although their lives had been intertwined since their youth, contact outside of a professional context was now minimal by her design. There was too much at stake to be giving into selfish desire. She had no interest in creating emotional problems between herself and Mustang. Their professional relationship was easy and comfortable. She had no interest in his private life.

  
Besides, why would she want to know what sort of debauchery he got up to when she wasn’t around? From the little information she does have, Roy's lived quite the life outside of the office. He's a successful, attractive bachelor living in a major city, after all. She figured there's no shortage of women flinging themselves into his more than welcoming arms.

  
Riza's shoulders slumped over the open cabinet in front of her, hands gripping its metal frame. She lazily skimmed through the files in front of her over and over again, focused more on the action than actually finding her intended document. She was tired; the constant restraint, having to work twice as hard to be where she is, and the recent scrutiny of her character was exhausting. Everywhere she went, people watched her as if to silently ask if she’s fucked her boss today. She gripped the metal harder, jaw locked with frustration. Riza took a breath and composed herself. She was not going to let pettiness distract her from doing her job. With her document finally in hand, the officer walked out into the hallway.

  
“They're just bored with their own lives, Lieutenant Colonel,” Havoc said. "Don't let them get to you."

  
"Thanks, Havoc," she said, appreciating the support.

  
He smiled back; he understood how demeaning it was to have the whole military talk about you as if you weren’t there. He felt that when he came back to work after Dr. Marcoh restored his ability to walk. 

  
“What are you doing out here anyway? Don't you have a meeting in 10 minutes?”

  
Havoc looked away, flushing a bit. “I'm just on my way to return Rebecca's pen, I won't be late,” he said.

  
Riza nodded her head with amusement. They had been flirting casually for years. _'I suppose the policy change isn't bad for everyone,'_ she smiled. “Don't be too long, Captain,” she said, heading back to the office. 

* * *

  
Roy Mustang stood at the entrance of Central Headquarters, irritated by the still bright sky. It was past 6 in the evening and the sun was still going strong. He brought his hand up to block the light from his eyes as he stood there patiently. _'There's nothing wrong just standing here,'_ he thought, casually waiting for a certain Lieutenant Colonel. 

  
“You’re still here, sir?” a familiar voice asks from behind.

  
_'Speak of the devil.'_ He smirked at the sound of his favourite subordinate’s voice, only for it to drop as he sees she’s not alone. 

  
“Yeah, you’re usually the first one home, sir,” Havoc said.

  
“I was just on my way,” Roy said. He paused, eyeing the two officers in front of him. “Do you two usually leave together?” Roy asked. 

  
Havoc and Hawkeye looked at each other. “We were just at target practice, sir,” Jean explained.

  
He nodded. “Right,” he said, shifting his gaze. “Well, Lieutenant Colonel, would you like a ride home?” 

  
She shook her head. “I’m only a few blocks away, but thank you, General.” 

  
"What about me, General? Can I hitch a ride?" Havoc said expectantly.

  
"I only offer rides to pretty women," he teased. 

  
Riza rolled her eyes. "Well, I'll be on my way. Have a good night, sir," she said. The two officers saluted him and started walking away together. Roy scowled; he didn’t like the look of her walking away with another man. He sighed as he watched them turn the corner and out of sight. He walked to his car with his head hung and posture uncharacteristically bent as he started driving home. 

  
Mustang hung his coat and drudged his way in, loosening the collar of his uniform as he sprawled out on the sofa. His stomach growled but he ignored it; his subordinate was occupying too much of his mental capacity to want food. He ran the interaction back, wondering if she displayed any evidence of being displeased with him. She rolled her eyes at him but that's normal. What wasn't normal, however, was her leaving work with Havoc. He didn't notice anything in their interaction that indicated much closeness between them, but the thought vexed his mind regardless. 

  
He looked up at the textured ceiling and tried to focus on how many specks there were. _‘21, 22, 23, 24… Hawkeye has been distant lately… 25, 26, 27…’_ Roy groaned, unable to stop the thought from squirming its way into his brain like a worm trained in psychological torture. He brought his hands to his temples and started massaging them to release pressure. The thought of them together, however irrational, made his whole body clench. There was nothing that churned his stomach more than the idea of her with another man… for safety reasons, of course. He couldn't have her distracted in the field. 

  
The General extended his arm out to the ceiling and looked at his hand, scarred from that day. He remembered the look on her face when she thought he was dead. She was so defeated; it was as if she had nothing else to live for. That thought made him particularly sad. Theirs was not a relationship based on frequent heart to hearts — they just didn’t talk much about their personal lives (at least, she didn’t), but Roy hoped she had joy in her life. He recalled how iridescent her smile was before the war. While infrequent, they did share moments of true happiness back in that small town.

  
He even found himself wondering what kind of life she would have had if she stayed in her hometown; she probably would have been married by now, with a kid or two, he surmised. He visualized her long hair tied up messily, strands of blonde spilling onto her face as she held an infant in her arms. In his mind, the baby had black hair and eyes like his. The thought put a smile on his face as he brought a cushion to his chest and gripped it tightly.

  
_It's nice to have dreams,’_ he thought. _‘Maybe one day, she’ll help me with this one.’_


	3. Plain White Ceramic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Haha, the year really flew by... Sorry about that, I haven't had the motivation for much these last few months tbh but I'm trying to write more these days. We'll see, I guess lol. sorry againnnnn

Roy never cared for home decor, which is why his apartment came pre furnished. Despite the lifelong indifference to such things, he couldn’t help but notice that the tablecloth laid in front of him was really nice. The texture was luxurious but didn’t look gaudy; it was a simple cream colour with a slight sheen. He felt the silky fabric again, wondering where he could get one that felt so nice. 

“Roy? Did you hear what I said?” 

Roy snapped back to his environment and remembered where he was. “Sorry, I was thinking about work,” he lied. He took a drink of his wine and poured himself another glass. If only she would finish her food so he could go home.  


The blonde looked at him with misguided sympathy. “I remember you said that paperwork was piling up,” she said.

Roy nodded with a halfhearted smile.

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Thank you, but I’m alright. Why don’t you finish what you were saying.”

Lillian waved her hand dismissively. “I was just telling you about one of my clients. She has the sweetest little puppy I’ve ever worked with; he knows so many tricks!” she gushed.

He nodded approvingly. “Good training is important for dogs; a subordinate of mine trained hers to do all sorts of things-- I swear he understands human speech at this point.”

She chuckled. “If only that were the case. It’d make my job a lot easier,” she said. “Would you ever want one of your own?”

Roy shrugged. “Sure, if it was as loyal as hers.”

“Maybe we could adopt one together some day. I have a knack for obedience training” she said, placing a hand on his. She watched him for his response, eager to have their relationship validated. 

Roy shifted in his seat as his muscles tensed. “Haha… perhaps,” he said weakly. He let out an awkward cough and pulled his hand back from under hers. He groaned, rubbing his temples. “My head is killing me; I must have had too much wine,” he said unconvincingly. 

Lillian’s eyes fell slightly, but pretended not to notice his fading interest in her. “Are you alright? Can I do anything?”

He shook his head. “I’ll have the restaurant call us a taxi, so why don’t you wait outside?” He motioned a waiter over and asked for the bill. 

As his date reluctantly walked out, Roy let out a heavy sigh. The tension throughout his body seemed to dissolve in her absence. Dating was typically an escape for Roy, so why did he suddenly feel like escaping his date? It felt wrong for him to be there when someone else was occupying his mind. 

“The bill, sir,” the waiter said, interrupting his brooding. 

After paying for their meal, the General walked out to his companion who was all too forgiving of his recent inattentiveness. They shared an easy-going drive to her place where Roy bid her a polite goodbye and pretended not to notice her disappointment when he did not kiss her goodnight. 

On his way home, he noticed a stillness in the air, as if the wind was tired of blowing. He chuckled; Riza used to say that, he recalled. Whenever there was a still night, she used to say it was because the wind was taking a break. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the frame of the cab and smiled slightly, reminiscing back to a sweeter time. 

“Sir, it looks like this is as far as I can take you,” the driver said, pointing to the roadblock in their way. 

Roy nodded, paying him and getting out of the car. In a sentimental stupor, Roy made his way in the general direction of his home. He walked with his hands in his pockets, just barely registering his environment until a flash of yellow caught his eye. He slowed his stroll, making a slight detour at a local flower cart.

He stooped down to get a better look at some flowers at the base of the cart. His attention was fixed on a basket of yellow flowers; he liked how rich its petals were-- honey coloured, just like Riza’s hair. 

An older woman loomed over from behind the cart and smiled at the sight of her new guest. “What’s the occasion, young man?”

The General smiled distantly, still mesmerized by the perfectly coloured flowers. “No occasion, these flowers just reminded me of someone.”

“Your wife, perhaps?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, no, I’m not married. She’s just a good friend.”

The florist’s eyes twinkled with hope. "If you get her these flowers, she could be more one day, trust me." She came out from behind her cart and brought some stems back to her workstation. The woman started wrapping the flowers delicately, even bringing out the special occasion ribbons. 

Roy put his hands up to dissuade her. "S-she doesn’t even own a vase!”

The woman tutted. “Well, then get her one!”

His hands dropped as she continued to wrap. “We really are just friends,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, knowing it wouldn’t stop her. 

She looked at him sympathetically. “Young man, the only difference between you and her future husband is fear. Now take these flowers, get her a beautiful vase, and let her fall in love with you!” 

Roy sighed as he took the bouquet. He hadn’t made up his mind about giving them to her, but damn did the woman give him a hard sell. He paid for the flowers and said good night, walking away in amused defeat. The Flame Alchemist was bested by a petite florist.

Chuckling to himself, he looked down at the flowers in his hands and brought them up to his nose. The scent was subdued but distinct, just like the blonde he was thinking of. There was a chaste sparkle in his eye as he walked the rest of the way home. Upon entry, the tired General looked in his cabinet in search of a suitable vase. He had several ornate Xingese porcelains, but was looking for something a tad more subtle. On his third cabinet, he found a beautifully crafted plain white ceramic. He delicately put the flowers inside and set them on his table. They would likely never make it to their intended recipient, but Roy was content; it felt like a ray of sunshine in his normally dim existence.


End file.
